Wrack Lineby M.W. JaegglePublished by University of Regina PressReview by Shelley A. Leedahl$19.95 ISBN 9780889779532 It’s a rare and wondrous thing when, while reading a poetry collection, I start conceiving poems in my own mind. Vancouver-born M.W. Jaeggle’s highly distilled first book of poetry, Wrack Line, has done that for me, and I feel indebted. This is a poet who looks and listens to the world around him at one already rare level, then amps his senses to an even higher plane. One cannot help but tumble under the spells he ingeniously casts with his poems about shorelines, wind, creatures, solitude, silence, loss, and guilt, and then you look away from the page, reflect upon his finely-crafted lines, and realize you’ve surfaced—as if from the sea—into gentle sunlight. M.W. (Michael) Jaeggle is presently a PhD student in the Department of English at SUNY Buffalo, but the book’s title, elegant cover (northern acorn barnacles set against a creamy background) and the poems within strongly suggest that his heart remains on Canada’s west coast: a “wrack line” refers to the ecologically-critical organic material (including seaweed and seagrasses) left on the shore by wind, waves and tides. It also includes less desirable debris,…